


The Strange Affair of the Phantom of the Opera

by NoirSongbird



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Kinda, Kylo Amidala, Like, M/M, Phantom of the Opera AU, opera costumes are pretty fucking intense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6542947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Viscount Liam Hux became the new patron of Paris's Opera Populaire, he wasn't expecting to find that the opera's new lead singer was his childhood friend and crush, Ben Organa, now going by the stage name "Kylo Ren." But Kylo's meteoric career rise may not entirely be down to his prodigious signing talent, and the mysterious Phantom of the Opera clearly has plans for the young singer that go beyond storming the Opera's stage...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a very tiny prologue, I promise future chapters will be much longer! Also, Avonmore totally exists, it's an Irish Viscounty that's been extinct since 1910. THE MORE YOU KNOW.

_ Paris, France _

It felt strange, to be back in the  Opera Populaire  after so many years - to see it covered in dust, its grandeur long gone. So far gone that the theater’s relics were being auctioned off, and there were several pieces that Liam Hux, twelfth Viscount Avonmore, did not intend to see slip through his hands. He had been silent for most of the auction, waiting for the specific pieces he wanted to come up for bid.

“Lot 665, ladies and gentleman,” the auctioneer said, “a papier-mâché music box in the shape of a barrel organ. Attached, the figure of a monkey in Persian robes, playing the cymbals. This item discovered in the vaults of the theater, still in working order, ladies and gentlemen!” He cranked the box, and the tune that floated out made Hux grit his teeth. Yes, that was it - this  _ had  _ to be it. “May I commence at...fifteen euros?” Hux raised his paddle to bid. “Fifteen, thank you - yes, twenty from you sir, thank you very much - Madame Organa, twenty-five, thank you madame - do I hear thirty? Thirty! - and thirty-five…? Thirty five? No? Sold for thirty euros to the Viscount Avonmore, thank you sir.” 

Hux took the music box, examining it carefully as he returned to his seat.

“A collector’s piece indeed,” he murmured to himself, “every detail exactly as he said.” A small chill ran down his spine. To think that Kylo could have described it so accurately over thirty years later...but of course he would never forget any detail of that hell. None of them ever would. “Will you still play after the rest of us are dead? Or perhaps Kylo will decide to destroy you. A fitting end.”

“Lot 666, then,” the auctioneer continued, and Hux’s attention was drawn back to the block, “a chandelier, in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera,” Hux cringed, viscerally, “a mystery never fully explained. We’re told, ladies and gentlemen, this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster. Our workshops have repaired it, and updated the wiring. Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little...illumination…”


	2. Think of Me

_Paris, France - 30 Years Earlier_

 

The bustling stage of the Opera Populaire, bedecked in settings and scenery and filled with dancers, looked - as it was - like one of the finest opera houses in the world. With the lights up, it glittered, and so did the people on its stage.

Bedecked gloriously in costume and wig, Arelle Phasma stood center stage. She was a woman with _presence -_ tall and imposing, and she barely seemed to need the costuming to capture the regal essence of the character she portrayed.

_“This trophy_   
_From our saviors_   
_From our saviors_   
_From the enslaving force_   
_Of Rome!”_

She wore no microphone to project her voice, but she didn’t _need_ one - it filled the space, even when she reached for the highest notes.

_“With feasting and dancing and song_   
_Tonight in celebration_   
_We greet the victorious throng_   
_Returned to bring salvation!_

_The trumpet of Carthage resound_   
_Hear, Romans, now and tremble_   
_Hark to our step on ground_   
_Hear the drums!_   
_Hannibal comes!”_

The chorus moved with the same precision and grace as the lead, and then parted to allow the co-lead through. Dopheld Mitaka, even becostumed, did not have _quite_ the stage presence of his partner, but he had plenty of enthusiasm and talent.

_“Sad to return_   
_To find the land we love_   
_Threatened once more_   
_By Roma's far-reaching grasp!”_

There was a small commotion coming from backstage, as the Opera house’s owner, an older man named Luke Skywalker - dressed far down from his usual, but looking rather delighted - led three more men out, though they were carefully of the the way of the actual performance.

“Gentlemen,” the conductor, slightly pudgy, red-haired, and sharp-eyed, said, though his voice was slightly sharp.

“As you can see,” Luke said, gesturing, “there are rehearsals well underway for a new production of Chalumeaou’s _Hannibal.”_

“Gentlemen,” The conductor said, “I am _rehearsing.”_

“Monseiur Rodinon,” Luke acknowledged, “Madame Organa,” he nodded to the ballet director, his sister, “everyone - if I could have your attention for just one moment?” Rodinon waved his baton, and the rehearsal stilled. “As I’m sure you’ve all heard, there have been rumors for several months about my imminent retirement. I can now confirm that these are all true,” and he looked faintly relieved, while Phasma made a small _ah-ha_ noise to , to herself and to Mitaka, “and I can now introduce the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, Monseiurs Poe and Finn Dameron.” He stepped aside and gestured with a flourish, to two men who looked delighted at the tableau before them, and Finn reached over to take Poe’s hand, squeezing it. “You may have heard of their recent fortune in the junk business.”

Poe coughed faintly.

“Scrap metal,” he corrected.

In the chorus wing, Rey Organa leaned over to her brother, dropping her voice low.

“They must be rich,” she said.

“And married,” Ben replied, with a thin layer of sarcasm, “to each other, from the looks of it.” Rey huffed under her breath.

“We are honored to introduce our new patron,” Finn said, taking a step to the side and gesturing.

“Liam Hux, twelfth Viscount Avonmore,” Poe finished. Ben reached over, squeezing his sister’s arm.

“Ben,” Rey said, “is that...is that _your_ Hux?” Ben was staring with wide eyes at the Viscount, older and more handsome and definitely taller, now, and something like a goofy grin wrote itself across the ballerino’s face.

“That’s him, yeah,” Ben replied, “his family’s summer estate was, you know, near ours - near the one we haven’t um.” He coughed. “Been back to, in a while. And…”

“And the two of you were _sweethearts,”_ Rey teased, lightly punching him in the side. Ben flushed, ducking his head. “He’s _gorgeous.”_ Ben squeezed her arm to quiet her, because Hux was speaking, and -- frankly he wanted to hear his voice.

“My parents and I are proud to support all the arts,” he said, and it felt so familiar, the same prim diction, the accent that was more _upper-class London_ than _Ireland,_ so much so that Ben had been surprised to discover where he came from, “especially the world-renowned Opera Populaire.” He gave a polite nod, and then stepped back.

“Gentlemen,” Luke said, and he beckoned to Phasma, who bustled over carefully, mindful of the many skirted layers of her costume, “Signora Arelle Phasma, our leading soprano for five seasons,” he beckoned again, and Mitaka joined her, “and Signor Dopheld Mitaka.”

“An honor,” Hux said, and he half-bowed. “I believe I am keeping you from your rehearsal, but I will be back this evening to share in your great triumph. My apologies, monseiur,” he turned, walking back the way he came.

Ben’s eyes followed him the entire way out.

“Thank you, monseiur le Viscount!” Rodinon called after him, and then he waved his baton at the group onstage.

“He wouldn’t recognize me,” Ben sighed. Rey frowned.

“He didn’t _see_ you,” she said, and the implied _“idiot”_ at the end of her sentence went well and unsaid.

“Once more if you please, signor,” Rodinon nodded to Mitaka, who nodded back, and then he began conducting the ballet. Rey and Ben fell back into their positions. Leia slid over to the two new owners, bringing them up onstage and letting them walk through the carefully constructed lines of dancers.

“We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballet,” Leia said, smiling indulgently.

“I see why,” Finn said. “Who is that?” He gestured to Rey.

“Rey Organa. My daughter,” Leia replied.

“And that?” Poe nodded to Ben. “No relation?” Leia laughed.

“Unfortunately not the case - that is my son, Ben. Though he prefers Kylo, onstage.” She said.

“You have an exceptionally talented family, Madame Organa,” Poe said, and Leia smiled indulgently.

“I’m very proud of both of them,” she said.

The chorus had begun to sing, but Phasma waved a hand and cut it off, looking deeply put-out.

“You know, perhaps there was a mistake in the billing, but last I checked, _I_ was the star, not the _ballet,_ ” she said, bitterness thick in her voice.

“Well, the Viscount is very excited about tonight’s gala,” Luke said soothingly.

“I hope the Viscount likes dancers as much as your new managers, because I will not be singing,” Phasma crossed her arms, and turned, primly, to leave.

“What do we do?” Finn asked. Luke gave both of them companionable pats on the shoulder.

“Grovel,” he advised. “Grovel, grovel.”

“Right,” Poe said, and he straightened and spread his arms, a charming smile on his face.

“ _Bella princesa diva_ !” He said, laying it on perhaps a bit thick in his native tongue, “ _goddess_ of song,” and he gave Phasma a deeply indulgent smile that had the imposing woman stopping.

“Yes?” She drew it out.

“Monseiur Rodinon, isn’t there an aria for Elissa in act three?” Finn asked, looking back at the conductor. “Perhaps the signora -”

Phasma frowned between the two of them.

“If my managers command,” she said, finally, and then, “monsieur Rodinon?”

“If my diva commands,” he said.

“Yes, I do.” Phasma bustled back to the center of the stage, carefully adjusting her costume.

 _“Think of me_  
 _Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_  
 _Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try_  
 _When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free…”_ She sang with the same presence and confidence as before, but there was a loud crash, and a large piece of scenery fell, taking Phasma down with it.

“My god,” Rodinon was already out of the pit, darting for Phasma, who was doing a good job of extracting herself with Mitaka’s help. “Signora, are you alright?”

Phasma glared poisonously.

“I am, no thanks to anyone here!” She said, sharply.

“Thanisson!” Luke called, sounding distinctly panicked. “What are you _doing_ back there?”

“Sir,” Thanisson, the props manager, poked out from behind another set piece, far from the one that had fallen, “that, ah, wasn’t me. I didn’t do that - there’s no one up there to knock it over.”

Ben inhaled, stepping over to Rey.

“He’s here,” he said under his breath, “the Phantom of the Opera.” Rey rolled her eyes.

“Signora,” Finn said, trying to sound soothing, “sometimes things just happen…”

“ _Sometimes things just happen!_ ” Phasma snarled, and she beckoned Mitaka over, to help extract her from the extravagant costume, “for three years, _sometimes things just happen,”_ she rounded on Luke, “and you haven’t done anything to _stop_ them from happening! And you two,” she rounded on Finn and Poe, “obviously you’re going to be as bad as him. _Sometimes things just happen,_ honestly. Well!” She said. “Until things _stop_ happening, this thing,” she gestured at herself, “is not going to happen. I could have been killed!” She stormed offstage, leaving stunned silence in her wake. “Mitaka, help me with my things.” Mitaka gave an awkward smile and a shrug, and followed after her.

“Well!” Luke gave Finn and Poe another set of companionable shoulder slaps. “Good luck, gentlemen. If you need me, I’ll be in Australia.” He turned, and walked offstage.

Thannison slipped over to Leia and passed her a folded paper, and she examined it and frowned.

“Monseiurs,” she said, “I have a message. From the opera ghost.”

“The _opera ghost.”_ Finn’s tone made it clear exactly how impressed with that concept he was.

“He welcomes you to his opera house,” she read, and Poe narrowed his eyes.

“ _His_ opera house?” Leia shrugged her shoulders and continued.

“And commands that you continue to leave box five empty for his use, and reminds you his salary is due.”

“His _salary_?” Finn asked.

“My brother used to pay him 3,000 euros a month.” Leia replied.

“ _Three thousand euros?”_ Poe yelped.

“Can you afford more, since the Viscount is your patron?” Leia asked, handing Poe the note. Poe made a strangled noise of horror.

“Madame, we had hoped to make that public tonight,” Poe said, “when the Viscount joined is for the gala, but obviously,” he tore the note in half, “we’re going to have to cancel, since the leading soprano just _walked out!”_ He looked, desperately, over at his partner. “A full house, Finn. We’re going to have to refund a full house!”

“Kylo can sing it,” Leia said, with abject certainty.

“Your son? A chorus boy?” Poe sounded dubious.

“Let him try. He’s been very well taught.” Leia said. She beckoned, and Ben looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a long moment. Rey gave him a push, and he stumbled forward, adjusting his rather skimpy slave outfit. Rodinon let out a slow breath and gestured to the pianist.

“Poe, are you sure this is a good idea?” Finn asked under his breath.

“Well,” Poe said, eyeing the ballerino as he adjusted himself to sing, “he _is_ pretty.”

 _“Think of me_  
 _Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_  
 _Remember me once in awhile, please promise me you'll try_  
 _When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free_  
 _If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me.”_ Ben sang. His voice wasn’t as high as Phasma’s, but it had the same space-filling quality, and the more he sang, the more confident he felt.

Finn and Poe exchanged looks.

Perhaps not a _total_ disaster, after all.

 

\--------

 

Kylo took a breath. In the elegant, white-and-silver dress for Act Three, carefully made up and styled into delicate androgyny, he had never felt so gloriously confident. It was hard to worry about being onstage when all he could feel was admiration, and when he rather literally literally did not have to be _Ben Solo, chorus boy_ any more. He could be _Kylo Ren, opera singer._

This was what he had been _practicing_ for, for _months._

_“We never said our love was evergreen_   
_Or as unchanging as the sea._   
_But if you can still remember_   
_Stop and think of me._   
_Think of all the things we've shared and seen,_   
_Don't think about the way things might have been._

_Think of me,_   
_Think of me waking, silent and resigned._   
_Imagine me_   
_Trying too hard to put you from my mind._   
_Recall those days, look back on all those times,_   
_Think of the things we'll never do._   
_There will never be a day when I won't think of you!”_

In his box, Hux stood up, leaning over the edge. He knew that voice, even if the name listed in the billing was unfamiliar. He knew the voice, he knew the face, he knew those _eyes._

“Ben,” he said under his breath. Whatever reason he had for wanting to use a stage name - one admittedly a bit more androgynous than his birth name - Hux was sure he knew the gloriously talented singer on that stage. “Bravo!” He cheered, and there would be no wiping the grin off his face. _He may not remember me,_ Hux thought, _but oh, I remember him._

 

\-------

 

After the gala, Ben practically collapsed in his dressing room, giggling to himself faintly. The door burst open, and Rey threw herself in, arms wrapping around her brother in a delighted hug.

“Ben!” She gasped. “Ben, you were _amazing!”_ He stood up and spun her around, and they both laughed. “Who is your _tutor?_ He’s working _wonders!”_ Ben put her down, and grinned.

“Remember the stories Dad used to tell? About an Angel of Music?” Ben said. Rey nodded. “It’s him. I’m sure of it. The Angel of Music has been teaching me.” Rey looked faintly skeptical.

“Come on, Ben, don’t be ridiculous, that’s not possible.” She protested.

“No, Rey, I’m sure of it - I can just...I can _tell_ ,” he said, and then he sank into the chair, and his expression changed. “I feel him...all the time, watching, listening, I…” Rey reached for her brother’s hands and started.

“Ben, your hands are _freezing,_ ” she said. He looked up at her with wide, sad eyes.

“I’m scared, Rey. I know he’s making me better, but...I don’t...understand,” he confessed. “I don’t know why he’s paying attention to me, why someone so _magical_ and _gifted_ wants to help...me…” Rey squeezed his hands.

“It’s okay, Ben.” She said. “You’re not alone.” Ben nodded, but he still looked distressed. “I’ll be back, alright?” She said, and she pulled away. He let her go, reluctantly.

Maybe Rey was right. It _did_ seem far-fetched…

 

\-----

 

Hux extracted himself from Finn and Poe, waving them off when they offered to introduce him to Ben. That was some irony, to introduce him to a man he’d known since he was ten - a decade, now, even if it had been five years since they had seen each other.

He rapped on the door, and when Ben opened it, he had the absolutely wonderful experience of watching him light up in abject delight.

“Little Ben wondered,” Hux teased, “am I fonder of goblins or of shoes, or of riddles, or chocolates,” he offered a bundle of roses.

“No,” Ben teased back, taking them, “what I loved best, little Ben said, is when I’m asleep in my bed, and the angel of music sings songs in my head...Hux,” Ben sighed. “You remember - those picnics in the attic, listening to your father play violin or mine working on projects, I -” He set the flower son his dressing table, and Hux swept him into a hug.

“Of course I remember, how could I forget?” Hux reached up to push an errant lock of hair away from Ben’s face. “You sang like an angel tonight, Ben - or...Kylo?”

“I’m Kylo onstage,” he said, waving a hand. “Only onstage.” Hux nodded. “Oh, Hux, I - my father is gone, now, but he always told me stories of the Angel of Music, and promised he’d send him - and he _has,_ I _know_ it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” Hux said, and he considered for a moment. “Come with me to dinner?” He offered.

“Ah,” Ben paused, taking a step back, shaking his head. “I can’t - the Angel of Music is very strict,” Hux laughed, sure Ben was still teasing.

“I won’t keep you long,” he promised. Ben shook his head again. “Come on, get changed, we’ll go, it’ll be lovely.” Hux waved, stepping out.

Ben sank back into his chair, biting his lip. He _wanted_ to go, of course he did - it would be wonderful to reconnect with Hux. But…

_“How disgustingly insolent.”_

The voice that filled the room came from everywhere and nowhere, and Ben sat up, feeling panic rise in his chest.

“Angel, I hear you - please, it was just a mistake, I was weak, it won’t happen again.” He stood, looking everywhere around the small room. “Please, master, I need you,” he pleaded.

 _“Flattering child,”_ the voice said. _“It is time, I think, that you know me - so look in the mirror, and you will see.”_

Almost mesmerized, Ben walked towards the large vanity mirror, reaching for it.

There was another face, masked almost entirely in white, aged and grey where he could see, and completely unfamiliar.

Horror and anticipation warred within him, as the mirror slowly slid aside, and he took a step forward.

 _“I am your Angel of Music,”_ his master’s voice encouraged, and distantly, he could hear a pounding on the door, and what sounded almost like Hux calling his name, but… “ _come to me, Angel of Music…”_

Ben stepped into the passage behind the vanity, and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta say, "If you need me, I'll be in Australia" is one of my favorite lines in the entire musical.


End file.
